An Unhealed Wound
by puca shells
Summary: “Jess?” Rory asked, her eyes growing big. She hadn’t heard that name said out loud in more than five years. Until then, he had just been in her memory, or words read on paper. But now it was out, and there was no running from it.
1. No More Running

**Chapter One: No More Running**

"Hello?" Rory wedged the cordless between her shoulder and ear.

"Alright, yeah. That's fine. Just come when you're done," she spoke into the phone as she fastened the packing tape on the box labeled "Books." It would be the heaviest box, no doubt about that, but then again it always had been. Rory had never thrown a book out her in life. It was just a rule she had. That, _and_ she always finished her books. If she hated the book more than words could say, if every minute she spent reading it was considered a waste of time, if from page ten she knew there was no way to salvage the ending, she wouldn't quit. Rory had to finish it. She just couldn't leave things left opened or unfinished. An opened wound that would never heal. She never strayed from that rule in all aspects of life, except love. With love, she just couldn't seem to get it right.

As she tossed the phone to the couch, she moved to sit on the taped up box. Rory looked around her apartment and took it all in. Almost everything she owned was in boxes. The walls were bare and boxes were everywhere. Rory let out a deep breath. This was it: she was moving, getting on with her life. Packing up her life in Hartford and moving into the big city.

After just turning 24, Rory realized she was leading a life she didn't want. After graduating college, she moved into an apartment in Hartford to work with her grandfather. She wanted to write. She always had, but when no job offers rolled in after graduation, Rory knew she needed money. Moving to Hartford seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, as she sat among her belongings, thinking of everything that led her to this point, she dreamed up a million other paths she could've wandered down. However that was the past, now she's finally found a job she's excited about.

After submitting articles, past and present, to big name papers, Rory had finally landed a job. And a good job, too. She'd be moving to New York to work at the New York Post. It wasn't a headlining job or anything, she wouldn't be writing her own column, but nonetheless it was decent. Better than being her grandfather's secretary, that's for sure.

_He_ lived in New York. She knew he did, but that wasn't why she was going. Or at least that's what she told herself. Rory looked down at her watch and then glanced back up at living room. Boxes always seemed to remind her of him. Maybe it's because he always left without a word. She'd always been afraid to pack up and move somewhere because she didn't want to be like him. Running when things got tough. But then again, she led him to it. Rory knew she did and she felt badly about it, but that's done. That's all in the past. She decided she was going to pack him up like an old box. Just tape it shut and tuck it away. Allow it to collect dust, never to be opened again. She had to move on. He was slowly breaking her and she knew it. Despite it all, part of her thought she deserved it. She broke him, that was for certain.

Rory was torn from her thoughts by a knock at the door. Thankful for the distraction, she rose to go open it.

"Hey, I brought some more boxes."

"Thanks Melinda, here I'll take them." Rory took the boxes as Melinda walked in and made herself at home.

"Wow, you got a lot done last night," Melinda said as she looked around.

"Yeah, I really just have my closet and probably half of my bedroom left."

Melinda's eyes lit up, "Ahh, the good stuff! Can I have the clothes you don't fit in anymore?"

Rory let out a laugh, "We'll see." Melinda was always good for a laugh, and that's what first drew Rory to her. She'd met Melinda shortly after she started college while she was at one of her grandparent's fund-raisers. Melinda had grown up in the next town over. After meeting, Rory was actually surprised that they had never met before. Being that she was the daughter of a wealthy family, attended a prestigious private school, and was dragged to countless debutante balls, Rory would've guessed that their paths had crossed at least once.

"So where do you want to start?"

"I guess I'll start over here, while you pick over my clothes," Rory sighed, tired.

"Yes!" Melinda exclaimed, "perk up Ror," she said with a smile as she opened the closet, "giving to charity should be fun."

"I highly doubt you are considered charity, Mel."

Melinda shrugged, "Whatever the cause, you definitely need a pick-me-up."

Rory nodded, "Yeah. I think the coffee is still on… you want any?" she asked with one foot out the door.

"Nah, I'm just fine," Melinda replied with a grin, taking in all the depths of Rory's pathetic, 2 by 4 foot, closet.

"AWE! Cute…. yes!" Melinda squealed numerous times as she journeyed through Rory's shoe collection, spotting cute shoes and pleasantly finding that they were just her size. After shopping for about twenty minutes Melinda came to an interesting looking box. It looked worn and the print on the sides was faded. Obviously it had been through a lot. Melinda grew excited at the possibilities. Maybe they were vintage, perhaps from the '50's. Maybe she got them from her grandmother and they had been in the family for years. "Hopefully Rory's done with these!" she thought to herself as she reached in and brought the box to her lap.

Opening the box, Melinda found something she wasn't quite expecting. Letters, a necklace, a small book, and a small leather jewelry box. Out of curiosity, she quickly reached for the jewelry box and opened it. Inside was a beautiful, glinting ring. Melinda gasped; if she hadn't known better she would've thought it was an engagement ring. After feeling as if she completely invaded her best friend's privacy, she placed the ring back in its place. She tried to close the box, she really did, but then she spotted the letters. Looking around, Melinda reached in. After unfolding the letter, she heard footsteps down the hall. Silently cursing herself, Melinda caught the last few words on the page and then folded it back as she found it. The footsteps grew louder as Melinda shut the shoebox and placed it back in the closet. "Shit, shit, shit," she singsonged, trying to open another box of shoes, so she didn't look, or feel, so guilty. It had said, "A lifetime would not be enough…" and was signed "Jess". "But who the hell is Jess?" Melinda thought to herself. She wracked her brain, trying to remember old boyfriends that Rory had talked about, but nothing was coming to mind. Suddenly, Rory walked in.

"Find anything yet?" Rory asked, mug in hand.

With her back to Rory, Melinda just motioned toward a stack of boxes.

"I'm hoping those are the ones you don't want," Rory said as she glanced at what looked like her entire shoe collection.

"No, those are the ones I hope you're done with."

"Mel, are you kidding?" she laughed, "Those are all the shoes I currently own."

Melinda turned around, scooting to sit against the bed. "New city, new look. You can't possibly wear these in the city. You'll look out of fashion and out of date."

"Mel," Rory smiled, sitting down on the floor next to her. As she took a sip of coffee, Rory studied her friend. "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"Oh me?" Melinda laughed, suddenly feeling giddy. "Oh no, I'm fine. Just shopping. And I _looooove_ shopping! _Shopping, Shopping, Shopping_!"

Rory's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "When I left here twenty minutes ago you were fine, what did you do?"

"Nothin' Ror. You just have really nice shoes."

"Alright, then," Rory said, scooting over toward her nightstand. "I'm going to get started over here."

"Okay, I'll just keep admiring your shoes, I guess," Melinda replied. She went through the two boxes stacked above _the_ box and paused before taking it out. As she held it in her lap, Melinda took a deep breath before calling to Rory.

"Huh?" Rory snorted a reply, her back to Melinda

"Umm… who's Jess?" Melinda asked slowly, trying to let each word sink in before following it with another.

Rory and Melinda turned toward each other at the same time.

"Jess?" Rory asked, her eyes growing big. She hadn't heard that name said out loud in more than five years. Until then, he had just been in her memory, or words read on paper. But now it was out, and there was no running from it.

* * *

Please review and tell me what you think so far. It was just an idea, so we'll see how it goes. 


	2. Letters

Chapter Two: Letters

Rory tried to regain some composure. "Jess?" she repeated, as memories raced through her mind like a video on fast-forward.

Melinda looked down, she didn't have the nerve to look Rory in the eye, "Yeah Ror, I'm sorry but I saw everything: the ring, the necklace, the letters."

Rory opened her mouth to speak, but no works came out.

"Rory, I'm sorry," Melinda kept saying. "I just- I was looking through the boxes and I thought they would be vintage shoes so I opened it, and," she paused and for some reason began to whisper, "I just had no idea." Melinda glanced up, only to face Rory's back.

"It was- we were-," she hesitated, not sure if she could speak of him without crying. "It's just nothing, okay?" Rory sniffled.

Melinda scooted over to her friend's side. "Ror, I saw the letter," she said, looking her in the eye, "it was signed _'A lifetime would not be enough…'_ with a dot,dot, dot."

Rory smiled, only Melinda would think there was meaning behind a "dot, dot, dot."

"Rory," she hesitated, but curiosity got the best of her, "who's Jess?" she finally asked.

Rory turned her body so she was facing towards the closet. As she studied Melinda's face, her eyes drifted down to the shoebox and what lay inside it. As tears began to well up in her eyes, Rory silently cursed herself for getting emotional. She thought she was done with him. She thought she was past this. _Obviously not_.

Rory took a deep breath, her eyes flicking back up to Melinda. "Jess was a teenage romance."

Melinda blinked and then looked down at the box in her lap. As she fingered through the letters and jewelry, she began to speak.

"Rory, this looks to me like a little more than just a _'teenage romance.'_ This looks to me like it was real," she finished, holding the mysterious ring in the air, as if to show her. "Looks to me like it was young _love_."

Rory bit her lip, thinking it would keep the tears back. She promised herself she would never cry over him again. Too many tears were already spent on him.

Melinda placed the ring back in its rightful place. "Rory, please talk to me. You're obviously hurting or else you wouldn't be upset. Please," she looked up with pleading eyes.

Rory nodded and wiped at her face with her sleeve. "We were engaged, and he left."

"He left?" Melinda's jaw dropped. "Rory, I had no idea." She took a minute, tucking her hair behind her ears, wondering if she should dare ask the question on the tip of her tongue. She did anyway. "Why?"

Rory shook her head from side to side, sniffling and biting her lip once again. "I really don't know. I haven't spoken to him since. All I've gotten were letters with no return address. The only way I knew where he was staying was by the postage sta-amp." Rory's voice cracked with the word stamp, and that was it, she had lost. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to continue.

"I loved him, Melinda," she sniffed. "He was the only boy I ever loved-ed." With each word she said, Rory become all the more hysterical. Soon words turned into sobbing studders and deep breaths.

Melinda moved closer to her friend and enveloped her in a tight hug. "Awe Ror, I'm so sorry," she whispered into her hair. "Shh, shh. It's okay hun, you're gonna be okay," she consoled while rubbing her back.

After Rory's breathing steadied, she got up and knocked everything off her bed. She sniffed for the millionth time that night, as her nose was still runny. "I'm just going to go to bed," she said, her voice low.

"Alright," Melinda nodded. "I think I'm going to stay here," she said, more to herself than to Rory. "Yeah, I'm going to go sleep out on the couch, okay?"

"Mmmhmmm." Rory replied, already curled in a ball beneath her blankets.

Melinda fixed Rory's pillows before leaving the room. "I'm only a few steps away if you need me," she said and turned out the lights behind her.

After Melinda left, Rory scanned the room. They had left everything out: the shoes, the clothes, all the contents of her nightstand. It was as if they just threw in the towel and called it quits for the night. Rory's gaze stopped at the stack of boxes by the closet, more importantly, the one that lay on top.

As Rory snuggled back into her pillow, her thoughts drifted to the night he left. Her eyes watered just picturing the lone envelope on the table. It was a white business size envelope with '_My Lorelai' _scribbled across the front. She could literally feel her heart breaking as she picked up that envelope.

Rory cried herself to sleep that night, as she had countless nights before.

She cried thinking of how he was different from anyone she had ever known. She cried remembering how he insisted on calling her Lorelai when everyone else called her Rory. She cried remembering his hand writing in the margins of her books, and how it had mysteriously gotten there when she didn't even lend him the book. She cried remembering of a time when he was hers, and more importantly, when she was his.


End file.
